


Queen of Sicily

by aleejerez



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Hermione Granger, Bad Albus Dumbledore, Gen, Good Severus Snape, Multi, Slytherin Hermione Granger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:54:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25641634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleejerez/pseuds/aleejerez
Summary: Hermione Jean Granger was special. She knew it and she would let the world know it too. From the secretive old headmaster that looked at her with flat eyes to the parents of the boy that would share his pureblood secrets with her to the lions that thought she was just a nobody snake. Hermione Jean Granger was special and she'd show them. She'd show the whole world.And she would rule it too.
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood/Fred Weasley/George Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 8
Kudos: 122





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing this story with the idea that certain things that happened in the past are different. Basically, the current timeline isn't the only thing that isn't canon in the Harry Potter timeline. The Marauders era is one of them so watch out for that. Also, I might add some tags as we go. I have a general idea of how I'd like this story to go but there might be changes as it progresses. I also don't know french so if anyone would like to help so please don't be too mad if something doesn't come out correctly. Hope you enjoy it all though!

Hermione Granger was always an odd girl. The day she was born, the nurse attending to her had sworn she was floating in her bassinet. She was oddly quiet, she hadn’t cried once since her healthy wails after leaving her mother’s womb. An almost silent whimper would be the only indication that the baby girl had any needs to be attended to.

Olivia and David Granger always knew their little girl was far more advanced than the other children. Young Hermione crawled earlier, walked, spoke, and read in leaps and bounds. Olivia’s mother, a part of an old French family, swore it was because the child inherited their fine French blood. David’s parents scoffed at the notion, she was just an extremely bright child, she was. A prodigy, even. The new parents were only overjoyed that only their little girl was whole and healthy but she was as bright as they came, their miracle child, born to a couple who were just shy of too old to have any children.

At the age of one, Olivia set Hermione down in the backyard of her childhood home, to play underneath the shade of her favorite tree. The old family manor was isolated, miles away from the next town, surrounded by trees in every direction. Olivia thought she saw the air shimmer around her baby but that was just a trick of the eye. The sun was too strong, so in they went, back into the oddly warm manor.

At two, David noticed that wherever she went, her favorite plush bunny went with her. He found it odd that it was never away from her side, he surely would’ve remembered if he had handed the toy to her if it was too far. It must’ve been another toy he had seen that was too far for her to grab onto.

At three, her grandparents all noticed that odd things happened around her. Everyone knew she didn’t like the color yellow, maybe it was too bright, maybe she didn’t like bright colors at that age. But, for whatever reason in her bright three-year-old mind, the color yellow was repulsive to her. So when her parents dressed her in a white and yellow dress, her shiny white shoes and frilly yellow socks, and dropped her off at David’s parents’ home, his mother had to look twice because surely she was just wearing yellow and white, not pink and white. Her husband waved it off as their old minds had finally wandered and they laughed as they planned to play with their grandchild for the rest of the afternoon. Her _grandmère_ was immensely proud of her bright grandchild, anything she did was seen as an incredible feat in her eyes. So, when the older french woman turned to see three-year-old Hermione right behind her in the family room when she just put her down for a nap in the nursery, she was just fascinated at how fast her _petite lapine_ was.

As Hermione grew up, people around her saw her as, well, odd. Things that couldn’t be explained happened around her and the other children that would bully her would always end up trapped in the supply closet at school or all of their hair would fall out the next morning or any number of things. Slightly traumatising but they went on to tease the odd girl the next day. Hermione never really paid it any mind. Oh, it hurt when they would pull her hair or push her down and sometimes she would cry when they’d call her a freak or any number of mean names they could come up with but she chalked it up to them not being as smart as her or as loved because at least she was loved. By the time she was seven, Hermione realised that people were just cruel, adults and children. At least the other kids were outright mean. They didn’t hide their sneers behind smiles or whispered behind their hands at how weird she was.

Hermione learned not to care. She knew she was different, special. Not because her _grandmère_ told her that it was because of her old family blood or that she was some kind of prodigy that her grandmother and grandfather told her she was. No, she knew she was special because she felt it. She knew she could do things no one else could do, control things no one else could. It was okay. She’d read her books, gather all her knowledge because knowledge was power and she was powerful. Hermione only needed her _grandmère_ , her grandparents, and her parents. They supported her, loved her, believed in her.

Hermione Jean Granger knew she was special.

And at age 11, when one Professor Minerva McGonagall knocked on the door of the Grangers’ home, young Hermione knew things were going to finally start looking up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's been a while. Honestly, I've been procrastinating. In the past months, I've had so much inspiration, just not for this story. But I am continuing with the story, no worries. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations. It is a bit of a filler chapter, just to introduce a few characters before Hermione leaves for Hogwarts.

“Now, Hermione, we’ll be right here,” Olivia Granger said. “The bookstore is right across the street. I know you’d like to buy every book that catches your eye but only get the ones you need first.”

Hermione nodded, tight curls bouncing with every move. “I know, mum. Can I go now?”

David Granger gave a low chuckle. “Of course, pumpkin,” he said, picking up a cup of tea to his lips. “But don’t take too long. This is our last stop of the day and we still have to meet your aunt and uncle in two hours.”

“Do we have to see them today? All they’re going to do is talk about how great it is that Margery was accepted to that exclusive ladies club.” The young witch sighed, the thought of having to see her high society relatives already bringing her high mood down.

“I know you don’t like to see them, love, but we have to at least visit them once in a while,” her mother said. “Now go on and get your books. There should be enough money left over for a few extra.”

Smile beaming, Hermione walked over to the store across the street, eyes set on the window with stacks of books sitting behind and the sign above the door. Flourish and Blotts. She already knew it would be her favorite store. At least, in Diagon Alley. 

The Granger family had chosen a day to shop for their daughter’s school supplies only a day after they had gotten the letter. They wanted to gather all of her supplies before any kind of rush came in and it seemed they had come at the right time. When Hermione walked into the magical bookstore, she could only see a few people walking about. Walking up to the counter, she handed the man behind it the list of books she needed.

“Muggle-born, right?” he asked. “Wait right here. It’s a slow day so I’ll grab these for you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Hermione looked around the shop, fingers twitching. The amount of books,  _ magical books _ , that she could get her hands on, the knowledge that was just waiting to be read by her. She took a deep breath in and could practically feel the magic rushing into her lungs. She couldn’t wait for the kind, old man to come back so that she could take what little time she had to explore. 

The bell above the door rang as a tall, blonde man walked in with an equally blonde son who looked to be around her age. Hermione watched them from the corner of her eye as they walked to stand at the counter next to her. Neither looked at her, ringing the small, silver bell that sat there. The old attendant came back a moment later with a stack of what Hermione thought to be her school books and placed them in front of her.

“I’ll be with you in a moment, Mr. Malfoy.” he said with a polite smile. Mr. Malfoy glanced at Hermione. He could feel the magic pouring off of the small girl the moment he stepped into the establishment. Maybe one to look out for once his son went off to Hogwarts.

“Is this all you wanted to buy today, Ms. …?”

“Granger. Hermione Granger,” the little witch smiled. “Would it be possible for you to hold those for me? I’d like to look for a few more books that I could buy.”

With a genial smile, the older wizard waved the young girl off to search. Smiling beatifically at him, Hermione went off to explore her new favorite shop. Behind her, she could hear, “Go on, Draco. Go look for a worthwhile book.”

  
  
  


Hermione was looking through a book on runes when she caught a glint of platinum blonde. Standing next to her perusing the books on the shelf in front of them was the boy who had come in with his father. Draco Malfoy she thought was his name. Paying him no mind she looked back down at her book and weighed its worth against another that she had just looked through.

“Are you going to Hogwarts this year?”

Hermione met the boy’s grey eyes, already searching for any tricks. “Yes, I am. And you?”

“Me too.” He glanced at the book in her hand. “That book’s supposed to be too advanced for first years.”

“Really? How would you know?” 

“We have that book in our family’s library,” Draco smirked. “It’s a waste to read anyway, there’s better books with more information.”

When Hermione asked, “Which ones would be those?”, Draco took a step back and looked around the shelves that stood in front of them. He pointed up at a thick, leather bound book that was too far for them to reach. “That one up there is much better.”

Hermione frowned as she looked at the book she knew she needed. At first she reached up, all the way on the tips of her toes to see if, maybe, she could reach the treasure. Her frown deepened when her fingertips barely even brushed the shelf the book was on. 

Petite feet made little noise when they hit the ground as their owner crossed her arms and continued to stare up. The click of a cane and light footsteps stopped at the witch and wizard’s side. Hermione didn’t pay the newcomer any mind as she stood there.

“Draco?” At his name, the young wizard looked up at his father with a shrug of his shoulders. He didn’t know why the tiny girl was so set on getting that book. He watched her as she tried to devour the book she had before in her hands and then huff as she reached for the book on the top shelf. Before he could ask what she needed the book for, Draco stood there with his father and they watched as the young Ms. Granger reached her arm up and that thick, leather bound book floated into her delicate hand. 

Wandless and silent magic? Lucius could not help himself. “That’s quite advanced magic for one so young. Who taught that to you, Ms. Granger, is it?”

Hermione looked up from perusing her newfound treasure. “I learned it on my own, sir.”

“Your parents didn’t teach you how to do that?”

“No,” Hermione smiled politely. “They don’t have any magic. They’re muggles, I believe is the word.”

“You’re muggle-born?” Draco asked before his father could respond.

Hermione looked from father to son. It only took a second for her to catch the glint in the older Malfoy’s eyes. “I see. Well, I’m sure you will learn more than enough for all of you. Come along, Draco. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Granger.” The man bowed slightly to her and waited for his son at the end of the aisle. 

“Perhaps I’ll see you on the train before we get to Hogwarts,” the younger said.

Hermione’s eyes glanced at his father and back to Draco. “Perhaps you will.” They nodded at each other.

Hermione watched as the two Malfoys walked away.

Well, if the young witch didn’t think it would be an interesting year, that encounter certainly proved her wrong. 

  
  



End file.
